


How to Tame a Wolf

by aHiveMind



Series: The Little Lark Series [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Collars, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dom Eskel (The Witcher), Dom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Dom/sub, Dry Humping, Edgeplay, Hand Jobs, Improper Use of Axii (The Witcher), Kissing, Love Bites, M/M, Master/Pet, Master/Slave, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Panic Attacks, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Puppy Play, Relationship Negotiation, Scent Kink, Shameless Smut, Sub Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Sub Jaskier | Dandelion, Subdrop, Subspace, safe words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 07:14:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28347471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aHiveMind/pseuds/aHiveMind
Summary: Geralt and Jaskier have been “travelling together” for almost a year and Geralt is firmly in charge. This is turned on its head when Eskel appears and starts bossing Geralt around. And Geralt seems to… like it?
Relationships: Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: The Little Lark Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1820776
Comments: 29
Kudos: 146





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, welcome to my smutty Geralt/Eskel fic! (with some Geralt/Jaskier in there for good measure) I have 5 out of 6 chapters written and ready to go so I'm planning on posting daily, although knowing me I'll probably get massive writers block as soon as I post this and never finish the last chapter... But anyway, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> P.S. This kinda links in to the previous fic in the series "Have you been naughty, little lark" which introduces Geralt and Jaskier's relationship, but I'm sure you can fill in the blanks pretty easily, without reading that one first.

“Please!” Jaskier begged, face tucked into the crook of Geralt’s neck. It was hot and sweaty and his hair stuck to his head. His face was flushed and his eyes hazy from lust and exertion. He was almost brought to tears as Geralt continued his relentless attack on Jaskier’s cock, and on his self control.

Geralt’s reply was an infuriating smirk and absolutely no change in his hand’s pace or pressure. He seemed to know the exact point to keep Jaskier at, right on the edge but never over it. This current game had been going on for the past three nights, the teasing and toying, until Jaskier thought he might go mad from the sensations. Then, just at the point where he thought he might actually be permitted to go over the edge, Geralt would pull away, roll over and announce that it was time to sleep.

All of this because Jaskier had disobeyed Geralt’s commands a few days earlier and taken himself in hand while he thought Geralt was sleeping. Never underestimate a Witcher’s senses, even when they were sleeping. Jaskier had definitely learned that lesson. Thoroughly. He hadn’t been able to sit comfortably for days. Not that Geralt had showed any sympathy whatsoever. And now this game, the back and forth, the infuriating dangling just on the cusp of orgasm.

“Oh god pleeease!” Jaskier panted, straining into Geralt’s touch, chasing just the tiniest bit more pleasure, but Geralt had a firm grip on him and didn’t allow him to move even a millimetre more into the touch. “Master, please, I’ve learnt my lesson. The cock is yours, only yours, I’ll never touch it without permission again, just please god-!”

“I know it’s my cock, little lark, that’s why I can play with it, whenever and however I like.” He reached up and stroked Jaskier’s hair tenderly, “It’s time for you to surrender.”

Jaskier let out a small sob, “Yes master.” He conceded. Giving in to the almost painful pleasure suffusing his body; focusing only on the rhythmic stroking of Geralt’ hand and the waves of unrequited pleasure. Give up, give in, surrender.

A feeling started to overtake him, a layer over the pleasure and sensations of his body. He felt like it could suffocate him, but instead he accepted it and it welcomed him into it’s warm embrace. He floated there for a long time, feeling light and fuzzy. A thought floated up to him slowly through the hazy warmth. He was grateful to master for this, this was far better than one greedy release of lust. As this thought and feeling came to him he relaxed down into it, like a warm bath, no longer straining against Geralt’s unyielding body, just letting everything happen. Geralt was in charge and that was good, it was right.

Geralt lowered himself down to Jaskier’s ear, “That’s right.” He purred, his voice sending tingles and shivers through Jaskier’s lax body, “Such a good boy for master. Let go, surrender.”

“Yes master.” Jaskier breathed, understanding. He didn’t need to come to feel good, he needed Geralt to hold him like this, to control and own his body. It felt so damn _good_. Geralt hummed against him, the vibrations sending more waves of pleasure through Jaskier.

Geralt traced Jaskier’s collar bone with his mouth, breathing out as he went, his warm breath ruffling the fine hairs on Jaskier’s smooth skin as he moved from one ear to the other. There he took Jaskier’s ear lobe between his teeth. Jaskier whimpered, completely undone.

“Come for me little lark.” Geralt commanded gently in Jaskier’s ear. And Jaskier did.

When he came to, he was wrapped in the warmth of Geralt’s steady body, their limbs tangled, his head on Geralt’s chest. He sighed and relaxed again into the embrace. Geralt reached up and ran his fingers through Jaskier’s hair.

His brain took a minute to formulate a full thought, it was like his head was filled with honey, “That was… amazing. I felt so strange, I’ve never felt that before.”

Geralt hummed, “I know.” He said simply. Jaskier detected an odd tone from Geralt, like he knew exactly what Jaskier was talking about. Had he experienced similar things before? He cast that thought away quickly. Who could dominate the great White Wolf in such a way? Not possible; he was too strong, too completely in control. Jaskier snuggled down into the crook of Geralt’s arm and promptly fell asleep.

The next day they were sitting in the common room of the tavern. Jaskier had been performing earlier and had received decent tips. Geralt had completed a contract in town, just routine drowners, and collected the reward from the bar keep, who was also the small town’s mayor, and cobbler.

A pretty serving maid came to the table to refill their beer mugs. Jaskier inspected her perky and quite exposed breasts with interest. She filled Geralt’s mug first, but when she went to fill Jaskier’s, Geralt put a hand over the mug. “No more for him. Water, if you don’t mind.” The maid bobbed a curtsey and scurried off to fetch some water. It may have been a strange thing to do, but Geralt of Rivia wasn’t exactly the kind of guy you questioned. Jaskier glanced at Geralt but didn’t object. Geralt reached under the table and laid a possessive hand on the small of Jaskier’s back, rubbing down, quite a long way, with his thumb. The message was clear. _Stop looking at pretty bar maids, you’re mine._

Jaskier was jolted out of the lusty haze he had been slowly descending into, with the gentle rubbing of Geralt’s thumb, by a commotion at the bar.

“I’m very sorry, sir.” The slightly nasally tone of the bar keep, “But we’ve no contracts for you. That was recently fulfilled by another mister witcher.”

“Another Mister Witcher?” A deep gravelly voice questioned dubiously.

Jaskier looked up to see the stocky barkeep pointing a hulking figure towards their table. The large man wore a cloak, obscuring his face in shadow, and a red striped jerkin which didn’t do much to cover how well built and muscled he was.

Geralt’s thumb stopped its lazy circling on Jaskier’s back and he froze, regarding the newcomer with a strange expression Jaskier couldn’t read. Tension? Anticipation? Fear? The man by the bar stared back. The world seemed to freeze for a minute as those two regarded each other from across the noisy room. There was a palpable energy between them which made the hair on Jaskier’s arm stand up.

Suddenly the world lunged back into motion. The shadowed figure made his way to their table with a slow and steady step. He took the seat opposite Geralt, pulling back his hood to reveal a pair of witcher eyes and a face which might once have been handsome. But the years had not been kind to this witcher; one side of his face was contorted with scars, disfiguring his lip.

“Hello Wolf.” The stranger said, his voice husky and full of self-confidence.

Geralt didn’t immediately respond and Jaskier tore his gaze away from the marred face of the other witcher to glance at Geralt. He was staring at the other witcher, slightly slack jawed, he swallowed, obviously trying to find words. He seemed to pull himself together, with an effort, and in the end, he settled for simply,

“Hello Eskel.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eskel and Geralt catch up, and Geralt actually talks about his feelings.. a little.

“Been a long time eh?” This so called Eskel began, “you weren’t at Kaer Morhen this winter… or the one before.”

Geralt made one of his famous noncommittal grunts in response to this comment.

Eskel raised his eyebrows, “That it?” He asked

“Yup.” Geralt replied, picking up his tankard and taking a deep drink.

“Stop.” Eskel said in such an authoritative voice that Geralt paused for a second, his brain going into autopilot, “Put it down.” Eskel said simply, fixing Geralt with a direct gaze.

Geralt stared him down for a moment, then purposefully took another long draw on his ale before putting it back on the table.

“Good boy.” Eskel said as soon as the mug touched the tabletop.

Geralt tensed, his ears going red. God, he hoped that Eskel couldn’t tell how his cock had twitched at those words. The smug look on Eskel’s face suggested that he likely did. Geralt’s hand flickered over the handle of the mug, his mind warring for a second on whether to pick it back up again or leave it.

“Leave it.” Eskel said. Geralt gritted his teeth. He wouldn’t pick it up just because Eskel had said not to. He was going to leave it anyway, so it didn’t matter. He stiffly moved his hand away and off the table.

“Good boy.” Eskel repeated.

“Don’t call me that.” Geralt said tersely.

“But you seem to like it so much when I do.” Eskel said innocently.

“Jaskier,” Geralt said, turning to the confused bard sitting beside him, his eyes swinging between the two witchers, his brow furrowed, obviously trying to understand the relationship, “Go upstairs.”

“But…” Jaskier began.

“Go. Upstairs.” Geralt said, not harshly, but leaving no room for disagreement, “Eskel and I need to talk.”

Eskel said nothing as Jaskier obediently got up and left the tavern common room, though his eye’s did follow Jaskier as he walked away.

“Mine.” Geralt growled.

“Noted.” Eskel conceded, “You do have lovely taste though. So,” Eskel said turning back to him, “What’s the story, wolf? Why haven’t we seen you at the mountain for so long? We’ve missed you.”

“I’m sure you have.” Geralt agreed.

“Oh, don’t be so glib, Geralt, what’s the matter?”

“What’s the matter Esk? Upset that the white wolf doesn’t come when called? That he won’t go to heel? Maybe I just have my own life with my own stuff going on. Did you ever consider that? Did any of you ever stop and think that for a moment?”

“Ah, Vesemir was right then.”

Geralt tensed up at the name and despite himself, leaned forwards, “What did Vesemir say?”

Eskel eyed him critically, “That you were staying away for the sake of disobeying. Said that it always happens; gotta prove that you won’t always do as you’re told. A small rebellion. Said we should leave you alone and eventually you’d come back to us.”

Geralt blustered, unable to form words, “For the sake of – how dare he – what if I - ?”

“Don’t hurt yourself Geralt. He’s right though. The great white wolf, gotta prove that he isn’t tamed. That’s the reason isn’t it? Well,” Eskel said leaning in, “I’d like to have a go taming the wolf. Even if I am no Daddy Vesemir, eh Geralt?” He said with a wink.

Geralt felt his face go red despite himself and he decided to say nothing, settling for glaring at Eskel across the table. Eskel laughed, again, and called a bar maid over to get himself a mug of ale.

He stood and slid onto the bench beside Geralt, getting in _close_. His scent engulfed Geralt and for a moment Geralt was lost in it, his mind spinning. He’d always had a much more sensitive sense of smell that the other witchers and they used it against him, knowing that he could be overwhelmed with the pheromones.

His mind blanked and all he could think about was _Eskel_. Warm, laughing Eskel. His strong body, his tender touch; on Geralt’s face, his chest, going ever further down. Eskel was a warm comforting blanket he could relax into, could lose himself in.

He shook his head, flinging himself out of his reverie and glared at Eskel, who had wrapped a companionable arm around him while he’d been dazed.

“What’s the matter wolf? Something bothering you?”

“No.” Geralt gritted out, shrugging out from under Eskel’s arm and consciously breathing through his mouth rather than his nose, though Eskel’s scent kept tickling at the edges of his senses.

Eskel reached out a large and calloused hand, one that looked like it had never been gentle in its life. But then he used it to tenderly brush Geralt’s thigh, feather light, and tingling.

“Eskel.” Geralt said reproachfully. It sounded far too close to a whine for Geralt’s liking, but Eskel’s scent was making it difficult for him to think clearly. Eskel’s scent and the feel of his body, so close, sent a deep spike of lust through Geralt. He hadn’t had any contact with the other witchers for two years and he’d tried hard not to think about them, but Eskel’s presence had ignited the fires deep within him. Thoughts rose into Geralt’s mind unbidden, fantasies of what Eskel might do to him, memories of previous winters in the keep, vivid, he could remember every sensation. He felt his breathing and heart rate quicken, and he knew that Eskel could to. And he hated it.

“Tell me to stop.” Eskel challenged in a whisper. “Tell me to stop and I’ll be out of here quicker than you can say Melitele’s tits, you won’t need to see me again.”

Geralt opened his mouth to say it. But then he hesitated, and in that hesitation, he knew he had lost. He could feel the tenuous high ground he was maintaining crumble into rubble beneath him, he was beginning to slide now. And Eskel knew it.

“That’s a good boy. You’ve always been such a good boy, Geralt.” As he said this, he leaned in even closer, forcing Geralt to take a full breath of his scent.

Geralt tried to move away, but as the pheromones hit him, he inadvertently found himself leaning in instead, wanting nothing more than to cuddle into Eskel’s side and be held.

Eskel snaked an arm around Geralt’s lower back and pulled him in, encouraging him to do exactly that. Thank god they had a secluded cubby in this tavern, Geralt thought. The lighting in this corner was dim, and no one would be able to see how close the two witchers were getting.

“Why do you fight this Geralt? Just let go, give into it.”

“…can’t” Geralt replied, hating how timid his voice sounded, how small.

“Can’t?” Eskel asked.

Geralt just grumbled and played with the handle of his mug, not elaborating on his answer.

“Come now, Geralt, use your words, you know how I like you to talk, how I like you to be so _loud_ for me.”

Geralt felt a stab of heat at the way Eskel said those words. Geralt had always been reserved, and Eskel delighted in eliciting the loudest moans and pleas from him. He would be lying if he said he didn’t like it too, secretly.

Eskel’s hand travelled further up Geralt’s leg, sending tingling jolts through his skin. Geralt sat there, unmoving, until Eskel’s hand finally reached his crotch at which point he moved suddenly to grab Eskel’s hand and pull it away.

He sighed and firmly placed Eskel’s hand back on the table before running his hands across his face, he could feel his distress rising, overriding the growing heat in his body.

“Please talk to me Geralt.” Eskel said simply, removing the flirtatious, teasing note from his voice, speaking completely sincerely now.

Geralt glanced at him and then away and then down at the table, he fidgeted with his hands and grumbled for a full minute before forming an answer, “It’s too dangerous Esk. The way I feel when I’m around you, or the others. I’m not in control.”

“And you don’t like not being in control?”

“No, it’s not that. I _love_ it. Too much.”

Geralt stopped, but Eskel waited patiently for him to continue, which he eventually did.

“Last time I was at Kaer Morhen, by the time I left in the Spring I felt so… empty without you all. Like I wasn’t a whole person without your presence. And I had trouble with… everyday things. Decisions. I struggled even to pick what to eat on my own, where to go, what to wear. Being told what to do all of the time, it becomes addictive, it’s like a drug. I was becoming reliant on it. I lost myself in it and every year… every year it was harder to find myself again.” Geralt found himself breathless at the end of his rant, that was more words than he’d spoken at once in a long time.

Eskel hummed reassuringly and ran his fingers through Geralt’s loose hair.

“I’m sorry Geralt, I think we all just get a little… greedy with you. I didn’t realise it was having that kind of an effect on you.”

The touch made him shudder involuntarily, he was well and truly slipping now. To be perfectly honest he was most of the way down the slope. How did Eskel have this profound effect on him? Geralt thought he was stronger than this and a part of him hated that he clearly wasn’t. That part was overruled by the larger part screaming desperately that he _needed_ this. His distress was evaporating. Eskel was just so damn _comforting_.

They sat there in companionable silence for a while, Eskel stroking his fingers over Geralt’s hand soothingly. After a while he continued,

“You’re not ready for Kaer Morhen again? That’s okay. But this can just be a small step, if you want it. You don’t need to throw the baby out with the bathwater Geralt. There’s no need to deny yourself forever.”

Geralt made a vague affirmative noise, indicating that he was considering what Eskel was saying. Eskel was a master interpreter of Geralt grunts and mumbles.

“I’m sure we could figure out a way for your time with us to not be so overwhelming, some way to step away from it and go on as normal.” Eskel volunteered. “I – I can’t imagine you not ever coming back to Kaer Morhen again…” He whispered, a note of dismay in his voice.

“Me neither,” Geralt whispered back.

“In fact, I may have an idea. I… had something made for. And since you’ve been so elusive, I haven’t been able to give it to you yet. I have it right here with me,” He said, gesturing to his pack.

Geralt looked at him questioningly and Eskel’s eyes lit up with a spark of mischief. “I’ll have to show it to you though, somewhere a little more private.”

Check and mate, Geralt was in for it now, his curiosity was piqued by Eskel’s mysterious suggestion, and the feel of Eskel’s warm body against his was slowly but surely intoxicating him, making his mind hazy and slow. He so wanted to sink into that feeling and let it carry him away, but with sheer force of will he pushed it aside and came back to himself. 

“I’ll have to go and speak to Jaskier.” Geralt said, trying to sound sure and forceful.

“Of course.” Eskel grinned, he knew he had him now. “A curious one that, how long have you been… together?”

“About a year.”

“And how do you like being in charge?” Eskel asked with a quirk of his eyebrow.

Geralt grunted and felt himself blushing again, why was it he could go literal years without blushing and then Eskel could make his face light up like a lantern every five minutes?

“I like it. It feels… right, with Jaskier. He’s special.”

“He certainly looked it from the small glimpse I’ve had so far.”

The implication was clear in Eskel’s words, he expected, or at least wanted, to see more. He was inviting Geralt to bring Jaskier along to whatever would be filling the next couple of days. Well, Geralt wouldn’t ask anything of Jaskier that he wasn’t completely comfortable with, no matter what Eskel wanted.

He nodded and stood up from the table to find Jaskier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Comments and kudos are always very welcome!
> 
> I also want to say that none of what happens in this fic is non-con. The pheromones amplify Geralt's desires rather than forcing him to feel something he's not.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Jaskier discuss things and come to a decision.

The sounds of Jaskier moving around in the room drifted to Geralt as he climbed the back stairs of the inn. It sounded like Jaskier was… packing? Geralt strode quickly up the rest of the steps and through the door of the room.

“Jaskier?” He asked, a little hesitantly. His head was still spinning somewhat. Eskel turning up like this had been so unexpected and now he thrilled with a pent up nervous, excited energy.

As he took in the room, he saw Jaskier was indeed packing, carefully folding his clothes into a travelling bag. He looked up as Geralt walked in and smiled.

“Why are you packing?” Geralt asked dumbly.

“Well,” Jaskier said, turning to continue folding, “It seemed like the right thing to do. Seems like you’re going to be… tied up, with Eskel for a bit.” There was the hint of a smirk on Jaskier’s lips with those last words.

Geralt suddenly panicked at the idea of Jaskier leaving, he’d grown used to them travelling together and it had been many months since they’d last parted.

“But…” Geralt started, unable to find the right words. And Jaskier just kept on packing. Suddenly Geralt couldn’t take it and he crossed the room and put a hand on Jaskier’s.

“Stop.” He said, his voice hinting slightly at his distress.

Jaskier did, and turned to him, sighing, but smiling anyway, “It’s okay, Geralt, I don’t mind at all. Please don’t take this as me being jealous or feeling pushed out or anything like that. It just seems like you really do need some time with Eskel and I think you need to be alone for that.”

“But, maybe you could stay and… join in. Eskel would definitely be up for it. Only if you are completely comfortable with that though.”

Jaskier’s eyes lit up for a second as if he hadn’t even considered this idea. But then he looked up at Geralt and cocked his head, a searching look on his face. Then he shook his head, “As appealing as that sounds, and believe me it does sound appealing, I don’t think that’s what you need.”

Geralt was confused for a second, he had been ready for Jaskier to say that he wasn’t up for it, not for Jaskier to claim that Geralt himself wasn’t up for it.

“But, I’d like you to join us.” He tried again.

“Hmm, I’m sure that’s true, but I don’t think you’re ready for that yet.” Jaskier said simply.

“I am.” Geralt crossed him arms and felt suddenly like a petulant child arguing against an adult, why was Jaskier being this difficult?

“Really?” Jaskier asked, his tone full of empathy and compassion, he rested a hand on Geralt’s arm.

Geralt forced himself to think about it for a moment. Was he ready to share this with Jaskier? Was he ready for Jaskier to see him with roles reversed? What would that do to their relationship? Also, there was the added problem of what he’d just admitted to Eskel, about how he felt after leaving Kaer Morhen. Maybe he should just look at this as a trial run, to see if he could start to handle it again. And if that was the case, it probably would be better if Jaskier wasn’t there, it would make it less complicated.

Eventually Geralt sighed, “Why do you always have to be right?” He grumbled.

Jaskier just laughed and hugged him.

“It’s okay, I actually have a performance in Novigrad which I would have needed to leave for in a day or two anyway. You can join me there when you’re done.”

“Hm,” Geralt agreed, started to feel a lot better about the situation, the nervous excitement about his coming night with Eskel starting to build again.

Jaskier did up the last straps on his bag, “Right well, I’m ready to head off, try not to have too much fun without me.” He said, quirking his lip.

Geralt rumbled and grabbed Jaskier then, pushing him back onto the bed, holding his wrists above his head. He buried his face in the crook of Jaskier’s neck and took a deep breath, breathing in Jaskier’s scent, a little spicy and exotic, full of warmth, like a spiced wine. Jaskier moaned underneath him and Geralt could feel Jaskier’s excitement stirring. He pushed a knee between Jaskier’s thighs, bringing it up to rub teasingly at Jaskier’s fast hardening cock. Then he arched his back up and pressed his lips to Jaskier’s neck, sucking and biting a little. When he pulled away, Jaskier was left lying flushed and breathless with a beautiful love bite glowing on his neck.

“Now everyone will know you’re mine.” Geralt said, leaning in to kiss Jaskier deeply.

“Only yours.” Jaskier breathed.

“Oh and Jaskier?” Jaskier hummed in response, “No touching while you’re gone.”

Jaskier whined and pouted up at Geralt.

“No. Touching.” Geralt repeated, “That way, I know you’ll be waiting eagerly for me, and our reunion will be all the more exciting.”

“I’d be thinking of you anyway.” Jaskier said, still pouting a little.

Geralt hummed, leaning down to kiss him again, “And no cheating, you know I’ll be able to tell.” Geralt whispered into Jaskier’s ear.

Finally, he let him up and then insisted on carrying Jaskier’s bag downstairs and out of the inn for him. They parted with an embrace, not daring to kiss out in the open, and Geralt waited outside, watching as Jaskier walked away, until he couldn’t see him any longer.

He felt, more than saw, Eskel walk up and stand beside him. Eskel reached out a large strong hand, placing it on Geralt’s shoulder, “Ready?” He asked.

Geralt nodded, and they turned together and walked back into the inn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter was a bit of a short one, but all the set up is done now and we're getting to the smut next!  
> Comments and kudos always welcome and appreciated :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eskel gives Geralt his present and they make up for their time apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're finally at the smut! Hope you enjoy!

“Have you eaten?” Eskel enquired, as they re-entered the main room of the inn. Geralt nodded and Eskel turned to the stairwell. “Come on then.” He said, as though it wasn’t _Geralt’s_ room they were headed to, which he’d _paid_ for. Geralt’s only protest was a grumpy huff, but then he obediently followed Eskel up the stairs. Eskel used his nose to find the right door and went in.

As soon as Geralt was through the door, Eskel grabbed him and towed him to the bed, throwing him down as if he weighed nothing. He collapsed on top of Geralt and started kissing him desperately. Geralt kissed him back, matching his intensity and allowing himself to be completely taken in by Eskel’s wonderful scent.

“God, Geralt, I’ve missed you.” Eskel said breathlessly before going right back to kissing him again. By the time he pulled away they were both breathless and flustered.

Geralt let out a shaky laugh, “I missed you too Esk.” He ran his fingers across Eskel’s face gently, his eyes drinking in the sight of his lover.

They may be brothers in arms, and they had been sharing their relationship with the other witchers of Kaer Morhen for decades, but Eskel had been Geralt’s first love. For a time they had been all each other had, in the cold halls of the keep. And whatever depravity, and Geralt truly hoped it would be depraved, tonight would bring, right now, just holding and touching each other was sweeter than anything Geralt could imagine. Eskel was home to Geralt, wherever they might meet, that was just the plain truth of it. He knew that was a rare thing for witchers, so they both treasured the bond. Suddenly he felt an overwhelming guilt for ignoring it for so long.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come back. Just because I couldn’t handle everything else didn’t mean I should have abandoned you.” Geralt said

Eskel just held him tighter, “You know I only want what you want Geralt. And if you needed time away, I would never hold that against you.” And just like that, Eskel made it all right. He always made everything all right.

They lay there, just holding each other, for a long while. Eventually Geralt stirred.

“You had something to show me.” He said, a little gruffly; trying to hide the eagerness he was feeling.

Eskel smiled knowingly and went to his pack. After rifling around for a minute, he finally produced a bag from the bottom of his pack. It was made of soft red velvet, kept closed with a drawstring.

Geralt reached out to take it, when Eskel got close, but Eskel tutted and snatched it back,

“Now, now, wolf, what do we say?”

Geralt sighed and cast Eskel a withering stare, but he clearly wasn’t budging, so after a minute Geralt sighed again, “Please?” He volunteered in an exasperated voice.

“Hmm, I really think you can do better than that, little wolf.”

Geralt growled slightly, bristling at the pet name, “Oh really?”

Eskel’s grin widened and he nodded, waiting expectantly.

This grated more on Geralt than he would have thought, he really was out of practice with submitting, perhaps his relationship with Jaskier had changed his mindset more than he’d first assumed.

“You know how this works, Geralt; if you refuse to do as you’re told then you won’t get any rewards.”

He bared his teeth at Eskel for those words, but underneath, his desires were rising, and he realised that despite his pride, he really, really, wanted to play along. He growled a little again, but this was quickly overtaken by a whine, deep in Geralt’s throat. Eskel’s eyes lit up with victory at that sound, he was enjoying this _way_ too much.

Geralt sighed and gritted his teeth. He knew what Eskel wanted him to say, he’d said it before countless times. He _could_ say it. He could.

He took a deep breath, swallowing his pride and tried to say it. Then he tried again. On the third try, he managed to get words to form, “Please… master.” He said through gritted teeth.

“Good boy.” Eskel said, in just the right way to make Geralt’s pulse quicken and a strange warm glow of pride swell in his chest, despite himself.

“Now, try again, a little less growly.”

This time it was easier, and Geralt hardly paused before saying, “Please master, may I have my present?” in, only a vaguely gruff, voice.

“Such a good boy, asking so politely,” Eskel said, stepping forwards and holding the present over to Geralt, “And good boys get nice presents.”

Geralt reached out and took it, instantly going to undo the drawstring. He stopped when Eskel’s large hand closed over his and Eskel fixed him with a look.

“Thank you, master.” Geralt said quickly and Eskel smiled and took his hands away.

“You may open your present now.”

Geralt undid the knot and pulled it open, eager to see what was inside.

He gasped when he saw it. A collar. Made of beautiful warm coloured leather, it was thick and looked heavy, fitted with a bright buckle emblazoned with the wolf symbol. He touched the snout of the wolf with the tip of one finger. He was overcome with a sudden, desperate need, which appeared out of nowhere. He _needed_ this on, right now. He held it out imploringly to Eskel, willing him to understand.

He hesitated though as his rational mind kicked in again, what the hell was he doing? He’d been reunited with Eskel for all of a couple of hours and he was already throwing himself to his feet and pleading to be collared and chained like a dog. He wasn’t ready. Did he want to be ready? Before he could drop the collar and refuse the gift entirely though, Eskel snatched it out of his hands.

“No. I don’t think you’re quite ready for this yet. Not tame enough. Big bad wolves have to earn their collars.” He said with a smirk, “I’m glad you like the present though.” Eskel said more genuinely, “I hope perhaps it might be a good way to stop and start things. So you can just be normal until you put it on and then when it comes off, everything stops. What do you think?”

Geralt considered for a second, it could work he supposed, and it was definitely worth a try. He nodded and Eskel beamed at him. Then his expression became more serious.

“But like I said, you’re not ready for it yet. Now come.”

Geralt watched him suspiciously. He supposed this was okay, he thought he could deal with Eskel playing around with him a bit. And a part of him, beneath all of his pride and common sense, was screaming at him to play along.

He got slowly off the bed, like a wary animal, and approached Eskel, who raised a hand to his chest when he was close enough, to stop him.

“Good boy.” He cooed, and Geralt felt his knees going a little weak at the words. How could two simple words affect him so much?

“You’re looking a little overdressed for what I have planned, wolf.” He said musingly, trailing his fingers through Geralt’s hair and inspecting him like he was a horse for sale at a market. Geralt bristled a little at that but didn’t move or push Eskel’s hand away. In fact, as Eskel stepped closer, Geralt found himself leaning into the touch, his eyes become heavy lidded. Eskel hummed and the vibrations sent tingles through Geralt.

“Now strip.” Eskel said, suddenly moving away and wrenching the warm, tingly feeling of his closeness from Geralt, he jerked back into awareness, feeling as though a bucket of ice water had been tipped on him. Eskel strode away to sit on the edge of the bed, reclining against the cushions, obviously ready for a show.

Geralt just stood there, mute and unmoving. He was not yet eager enough to debase himself in front of Eskel but he was also not willing to leave and lose whatever pleasure the night might bring. God he just wanted Eskel to touch him again and not stop. Right now. He felt as if he might do anything to make that happen. He would follow any instruction or command that dripped out of Eskel’s sweet mouth. He shook his head away from the frustration and lust of those thoughts; fixing his eyes on Eskel again.

“What’s the matter, is my little wolf too shy to strip for me? Does he need help with all of his buttons?” Eskel asked mockingly.

Geralt growled at those words. Normally it was only Lambert who liked to mock Geralt like this. But then, he supposed, he wasn’t normally this stubborn. And damn if Eskel’s words didn’t work.

Eskel hummed, “Positively feral.” He sniped.

He lifted his hands to the ties of his shirt, in sheer defiance of Eskel’s words. He yanked them open, a little viciously.

“Stop.” Eskel’s voice rang out, full of authority and Geralt stopped immediately, “Slower, let me enjoy the show.”

Geralt growled again but did slow down, taking deliberate care over the rest of the ties and then slipping the shirt off as slowly as he could, revealing his muscular scarred chest. Eskel hummed in appreciation,

“So beautiful, little wolf.” His words made Geralt blush and sent a thrill of pleasure though him.

Next, he unlaced his boots, kicking them off and away from himself. Then went his socks, it wasn’t easy to take socks off in a sexy way, but Geralt gave it his best shot, which elicited a good natured laugh out of Eskel.

He moved onto his breeches, untying the laces at the front and letting the trousers fall to the floor. He kicked them away too, leaving him standing there in front of Eskel in nothing but his underclothes.

“Hmm, all the way wolf, I want to see all of you.” Geralt blushed again and, in a moment of defiance, grabbed his pants in both hands, thrusting them down in one sharp motion, revealing his half hard cock. Eskel was up in a flash, one hand around Geralts arm, the other swinging round to smack his ass. The blow stung. The pain was nothing to a witcher. The shock and humiliation of the act, however, affected Geralt more than the pain. He yelped involuntarily, jumping slightly and spinning to fix Eskel with a betrayed look at the same moment that he noticed how the heat from his ass spiked a heat in his lower belly and cock.

“I said, _slowly_ , wolf. I don’t expect to have to repeat myself again.”

Geralt swallowed around a lump in his throat, “Yes, master.” He whispered and immediately hated himself for saying those words so instinctively. But then Eskel rewarded him with a soothing, “Good boy.” And the negative feelings evaporated, leaving only the warmth of the praise and the growing, inevitable desire of wanting to please Eskel.

“I’m sorry I had to punish you, but it’ll be good for you in the long run. I know taming can be hard. Giving up control is never easy. But you can rely on your master, I know what’s best.”

Before Geralt could ponder too hard on those words, Eskel was pulling him towards the bed. The willingness Geralt felt to follow scared him a little in it’s sudden intensity.

Once they reached the bed, Eskel stood in front of him, “Kneel.” He commanded. When Geralt didn’t immediately comply, Eskel spun him around with a swift movement and delivered five swift and hard spanks to Geralt’s backside. Geralt let out a pitiful whine. He was growing so hot and horny and all he wanted was for Eskel to touch him, why did a part of his brain rebel against the orders which would lead him to pleasure?

Eskel turned him back around and pointed to the floor. This time Geralt dropped to his knees with no argument, looking up at Eskel from his position at Eskel’s feet. It made him feel suddenly small and vulnerable. That sent a squirm of pleasure through his chest.

Eskel hummed in contentment and started slowly circling Geralt, brushing his fingers along his shoulders, back, torso. All the while he murmured to Geralt in a sultry voice, “So beautiful, my white wolf. You look so good, kneeling on the floor for me.” Normally, being complimented made Geralt feel awkward and uncomfortable, but from Eskel’s sweet mouth the praise made Geralt glow with warmth and he basked in the words and in the touch.

He hoped that if he stayed still and did everything Eskel said, then he might touch him more, _smother_ him with his touch. But he knew that this game demanded patience, so he schooled himself and focused on kneeling as well as he could, accepting the small touches Eskel gave him with gratitude.

“Hmm, I can see my little wild wolf is getting excited.” Eskel commented, and sure enough Geralt’s cock was steadily growing harder as Eskel touched and spoke to him, “You want more, wolf?”

Geralt almost tripped over his words in his eagerness to reply, “Yes!” And after a short pause, followed with, “Yes please, master.”

“That’s a lot better, but,” He said, raising a hand to his lips in a pondering expression, “you haven’t been on particularly good behaviour tonight. You seem to have forgotten how the game works.” Geralt whined at the words, his frustration and longing building. He was caught between wanting desperately to please Eskel and an unwillingness to do everything Eskel said. He couldn’t put his finger on the reason. Perhaps he was just out of practice, or his relationship with Jaskier could have changed his mindset. Or maybe he thought, you’re just scared you’ll go too deep again. He hated feeling scared. Witcher’s weren’t meant to feel. So, he pushed the thought away.

“It’s give and take, you see?” Eskel continued, Geralt tuning back into his voice “And if you don’t give me what I want, by following my orders properly, then it wouldn’t be right of me to give you what you want, now would it? That’s not how training works. If I did that, I’d certainly end up with a naughty puppy, who never does as they’re told.”

Geralt shivered at Eskel’s words, looking up at him longingly, pouting slightly. the word “puppy” struck a strange chord deep inside him and he could feel himself slipping a bit, despite himself. The edges of his awareness were starting to fuzz. A familiar feeling for him, though he hadn’t felt it since he’d stopped going to Kaer Morhen. He so wanted to surrender himself to it, as he knew he could. He’d done it plenty of times in the past.

“I can think of something you can do for me, to make up for your disobedience.” Eskel took two fingers and thrust them into Geralt mouth, making him yelp in surprise. The yelp quickly turned into a moan of pleasure and he started to suck greedily on the fingers. A small part of him was angrily demanding what the hell he was doing? Sucking on Eskel’s fingers and moaning like a common whore. Yes, that was what he was doing. And he loved it. He couldn’t deny that to himself. Why did it feel so good to him, to be naked and kneeling on the floor, sucking on Eskel’s fingers? It was so degrading. Fuck, it was so good.

Eskel pressed his fingers down onto Geralt’s tongue, forcing him mouth open. He looked up into Eskel’s face, feeling vaguely drunk. Eskel rubbed his fingers over Geralt tongue and Geralt chased them, licking and trying to suck on them again. The parts of his brain arguing against this were steadily being muffled by the haze settling into his mind.

Eskel withdrew his fingers slowly, Geralt leaning forwards and whining a bit, trying to chase them. He knew better than to move from his spot on the floor though, so after a second he had to admit defeat and lean back.

Eskel moved back a step to sit on the edge of the bed. Then he unfastened the ties on his breeches, withdrawing his semi hard cock. It seemed that Eskel had been enjoying this game just as much as Geralt. The thought made Geralt’s chest swell with pride. He had made Eskel feel good.

“Come here.” Eskel commanded. He didn’t need to tell Geralt twice, he moved swiftly over, still on his knees, eyes fixated on Eskel’s cock now. It had been too long. He wanted to reach out and touch it, taste it. And it seemed that he would soon get his wish.

“Lick it.” Eskel said.

Geralt leaned forwards eagerly and licked the full length of the underside, from base to tip. It was delicious.

“Good boy,” Eskel praised, “Good puppy.” He threw the last word in and it made Geralt pause for a second, on the precipice of sinking so much deeper or withdrawing. Was it too much? But then the sight of Eskel’s fast hardening cock distracted him and he didn’t continue down that line of thought.

“Suck it, just the tip.” Geralt did as commanded; eagerly taking the end into his mouth and sucking it, teasing the tip with his tongue. Tasting the salty beads of fluid already leaking out. Eskel groaned slightly at that, “Take it deeper.” He said a little breathlessly. Geralt took a few more inches into his mouth, sucking and licking and bobbing his head on and off. He wanted to make this good for Eskel. He wanted to show Eskel how sorry he was for abandoning him for so long.

“Slower.” Eskel breathed, and then after a minute, “Faster. Deeper.”

Geralt followed Eskel’s instructions without thought. He didn’t think of his own pleasure. Eskel was all that mattered now. Geralt took a few more inches of him again. It was now bumping the back of his throat as he bobbed his head, he didn’t mind, he wanted all of it inside his mouth.

Eskel laughed a little breathlessly, “A hungry little puppy, aren’t we?” Those words lit a fire inside of Geralt and he immediately took him deeper, swallowing and gagging eagerly on the cock. That stopped Eskel’s words. He was reduced to the occasional moaned “Good boy.” the sounds of his moans and heavy breathing music to Geralt’s ears.

“Want a little help to take it all the way?” Eskel asked after a minute, Geralt nodded eagerly, not taking his mouth off the cock to answer.

Eskel took a handful of Geralt’s hair and lifted his hips slightly. Then he simultaneously pulled Geralt’s head down and thrusted up into his mouth. If Eskel had done this mere minutes ago, Geralt probably wouldn’t have allowed it. But now, Eskel grabbing his hair and fucking his face like this was everything Geralt wanted. He wanted all of Eskel inside of him, filling him, using him. Geralt gagged and choked, but this didn’t bother him, he hummed in pleasure and kept sucking.

It wasn’t long before Eskel’s thrusts sped up and became more erratic. Geralt was ready for it and when he started coming with ragged moans, Geralt swallowed greedily, over and over again, as the hot cum spurted into his mouth, trying to not miss a drop.

“Oh, fuck,” Eskel exclaimed breathlessly, falling back onto the bed, “You haven’t lost any of your skills, wolf.”

Geralt hummed happily and remained kneeling by the bed, waiting for Eskel’s next command. He felt no rush now, whatever Eskel wanted of him, he was ready to give. After a minute, the witcher recovered himself and sat back up. He reached out and ran a hand through Geralt’s hair and across his cheek. Then he reached down and mopped up a drop of cum from the corner of Geralt’s mouth with the tip of his finger. He pushed the finger into Geralt’s eager mouth. He sucked it clean, staring up into Eskel’s eyes the whole time.

“I think you’ve earned a little treat for yourself, for being so good.” His words sent a thrill of anticipation through Geralt.

Eskel leant down and captured Geralt’s mouth in a passionate kiss, drawing him up and onto the bed. Without breaking off the kiss, Eskel manoeuvred them so Geralt sat against the headboard, Eskel straddling him, pinning him back with the intensity of the kiss. Geralt let himself be moved, like he was a doll, desperate to not let the contact with Eskel break.

Eskel’s hands roved over Geralt’s bare body, his own, still mostly clothed body, pressing against him rhythmically, as though he was already thrusting into him. But not yet.

Eskel reached a hand down between Geralt’s thighs. He parted them eagerly, feeling loose and pliant under Eskel’s hands.

“Eager are we?” He asked with a smirk. Geralt replied with a moan as Eskel’s finger brushed his hole, making slow circles around the muscle there. He wasn’t sure he could actually make any other sounds right now. The feeling of Eskel’s fingers slowly circling him was intoxicating.

Eskel reached to the side table, where he had left a bottle of oil, he poured it onto his fingers eagerly. It seemed that tonight, Eskel was as hungry for it as Geralt. Normally Geralt was the horny one, capable of entertaining three witchers all night and still beg for more as dawn came. Their time apart must have dragged on Eskel too. Usually at this point in the night, if it was just Eskel and him, Eskel would tease and toy with him for a while, enjoying watching Geralt unravel under his ministrations until he was putty in his hands. But tonight he obviously wanted to get right to business, and Geralt wasn’t complaining, he was feeling pretty damn close to putty as it was.

Eskel moved his fingers back between Geralt’s now fully spread thighs and slowly, but steadily, inserted one finger inside Geralt. Geralt groaned against the bed and attempted to buck his hips up into the touch, force more of Eskel into him. But Eskel held his hips down with one firm hand. Now that he was inside Geralt, at least in some way, he seemed to rein in his own desire. Going a little more slowly, letting Geralt adjust. Geralt didn’t want to adjust. He wanted Eskel in him. Now.

“I love you like this, my beautiful wolf, laid out bare and wanting before me, spread wide.” A wicked grin crept across his face and he leant down to Geralt’s ear, pushing his finger in further as he did so, “After I’m done, you’ll smell so much of me that you’ll never forget your place again, you’ll know who you belong to.” He breathed in deeply, rubbing his face into the curve of Geralt’s neck. His words sending Geralt spinning “I’m gonna take you just like this, as many times as I like, that’s what you want isn’t it, puppy?”

Geralt nodded eagerly, saying nothing about the pet name, groaning and writhing on the bed.

“I want to hear you say it, pet.”

Geralt searched his cloudy, lust filled mind for the correct words. Words which would make all of this continue.

“Y- yes master, please, that’s what I want, please. Please, please, please.” Eskel silenced him with another kiss before he could start properly babbling.

Geralt’s mind was a mess, his thoughts were so full of Eskel that he couldn’t think straight. He just needed _more_ of Eskel. _All_ of him. He tried to buck his hips again to force more into himself, but Eskel’s grip held firm.

“Now, now, little pup, you’ll just have to wait.” Geralt whined at this, a long pitiful sound, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel ashamed anymore.

“I know waiting is hard, but it’ll be worth it in the end.”

Eskel continued to move his finger slowly in and out of Geralt, until Geralt felt he was going mad from it. When Geralt was reduced to lying, moaning on the bed for more, he finally added a second finger, followed quickly by a third, and then a fourth. Soon he was thrusting his fingers in and out of Geralt, scissoring him open. Geralt moaned and whined, throwing his head back and grabbing fistfuls of bedding. He was overwhelmed by the sensations but at the same time he wanted more. He wanted Eskel’s cock in him so much it _hurt_.

“I know what you want, little pup. But you’re going to have to show me how much you want it.”

Geralt knew what Eskel wanted and he quickly obliged, his moans becoming louder. He pushed aside the part of himself which cringed to think of people hearing them, the part which always told him to be as quiet as possible. That part of him had little power anyway, now that Eskel was here.

“Tell me, tell me what you want, I need to hear it.”

The words came to Geralt easily for once, “Please master, I need your cock, please, fuck me, please.” He chanted this, it became a mantra as he lost himself to the formless pleasure, nowhere near close enough to bring him to orgasm, but enough to occupy his entire mind, taunting and playing with him, making him always want _more_.

“So good for master, such a clever puppy, to ask so nicely.” Eskel cooed, removing his fingers. The loss of this contact elicited a long whine from Geralt, who thumped his head against the pillows in frustration.

Eskel reached down to oil his cock and then took up position, looming over Geralt on the bed.

“Are you ready, my little wild wolf? Ready for me to make you mine, make you my little pup?”

Geralt nodded emphatically, he was already Eskel’s, totally. He didn’t know when his mindset had changed but he was fully in Eskel’s thrall now. He was sure he would do anything for him. He couldn’t understand why he had ever resisted; whatever emotion had caused him to do so had long since fled, leaving only the desire to please.

“Words, wolf.” Eskel said, a stern note to his voice which made Geralt cringe in dismay, he didn’t want to be a disobedient puppy, he wanted to be good.

“Sorry, master,” He said breathlessly, “Yes master, I am ready, please, please, take me.”

Eskel needed no more encouragement than that and he began to push in. The pressure and size were so familiar to Geralt, his body took it easily. But the sheer pleasure and presence of it made him tense up, arching his back and clinging to Eskel’s shirt with desperate hands. He keened Eskel’s name and clung to him.

“Easy now, relax, I’ve got you little pup.”

Eskel’s soothing words reached Geralt’s ears and his grip eased, he relaxed back down onto the bed, though he retained his firm grip on the back of Eskel’s shirt.

Then Eskel started to move, long, slow thrusts, in and out, teasing him. He’d forgotten how good Eskel’s cock felt in him. Eskel loomed over him, filling the entirety of Geralt’s vision. All Geralt could see was Eskel. All he could smell was Eskel. All he could feel was Eskel.

Eskel finally sank his full length into Geralt and Geralt gasped. He was speared on that cock, filled. He felt owned, possessed, and he loved it. And right now, he couldn’t even bring himself to hate himself for that feeling, he just basked in the pleasure.

Eskel sped up, sending sharp jolts of electricity through Geralt’s body, up and down his spine. His grip on Eskel’s back tightened until he was practically clawing at him, keening and moaning and makes other obscene, overly loud, noises.

“That’s right, my little pup, howl for me.”

Eskel changed his direction and Geralt all but screamed at the pleasure. His hips moved without his mind directing them, moving desperately to meet Eskel’s thrusts, to take more of him. Eskel allowed him the movement, he was losing himself as much as Geralt was, to the pleasure.

They were both nearing the edge, Eskel would be able to tell from Geralt’s scent that he was close. He sped up again, pounding into Geralt. Then he leant down, putting their foreheads together.

“Ah, ah, ah, little pups aren’t allowed to come without their master’s permission.”

Geralt whimpered loudly and bit his lip, looking up at Eskel through his lashes, begging. Eskel laughed at Geralt’s pleading look.

“That little trick is not going to work on me. You are not allowed to come.”

Geralt closed his eyes and tried to breathe more deeply to pull himself back from the edge. But Eskel obviously didn’t want that. He took hold of Geralt’s cock and gave it several firm strokes. The pleasure made Geralt’s eyes shoot open and he whimpered again louder. He was so close to the edge. And he wasn’t allowed, he wasn’t allowed! His could feel his breathing become more ragged, he could no longer stop his body from moving with Eskel’s.

They writhed together on the bed, Geralt desperately trying to stop himself, Eskel unrelenting. He would allow Geralt to control himself enough to stop him coming for a second, but then he would follow this with firm strokes of his cock, bringing him right back to that point. He was good at this, he knew exactly when to do it so that Geralt never went over that edge. He just dangled there in mind bending, almost painful, pleasure.

It had been so long since he had felt this overwhelming feeling, this complete loss of control. Eskel controlled the pleasure, Geralt could do nothing but moan helplessly on the bed. He felt himself slipping into that place between pleasure, where every moment was golden and shining and his mind felt as if it was wading through honey. He couldn’t think, but it was so _sweet_.

Eventually Eskel performed a few, quick, sharp, thrusts and came with a moan, his hips jerking rhythmically into Geralt as he rode the aftershocks. Then they both collapsed onto the bed, panting, limbs entangled. Geralt lay staring up at the ceiling, his mind blank. He couldn’t form thoughts past the haze and pleasure filling his mind. He could only think one word. _Eskel_. Despite his fatigue, he felt light, floaty and fuzzy in a way witchers never really felt.

It was almost as if this was a dream. But oddly not Geralt’s dream. Geralt felt more like he was a figment of Eskel’s dream, controlled and created by him, for him. He felt…distant. It was nice. A tiny part of Geralt’s hazy mind thought that perhaps he should be concerned about this feeling, but that was impossible to pay attention to. Eskel was here.

After a minute, composing himself, Eskel pulled his now soft cock out of Geralt’s lax form. He left the bed, quickly cleaning himself and refastening his breeches so he was fully dressed again. Geralt just lay, prone on the bed, naked and dripping with Eskel’s seed, his glazed eyes lazily following Eskel around the room, his cock hard and throbbing. Then Eskel went over to the side table and brought back a bag.

What was...? Oh yes, the collar. That felt like it had been so long ago. A different Geralt.

“Come here.” Eskel said, but his tone was gentle now.

Geralt moved, without thinking, Eskel’s words were enough. Eskel’s words _were_ his thoughts.

“Down.”

Geralt dropped to his knees instantly, at Eskel’s feet.

Eskel ran a tender hand down Geralt’s face, trailing along the hard lines of his body. Geralt didn’t move, but the touch made him gasp and sent a shiver down his spine.

“I think you’re ready for your collar now, little pup.” Eskel murmured, trailing his lips down Geralt’s face to kiss his neck. Geralt moved his head a little to expose his neck further, a submissive feeling washing over him, consuming his mind.

“Yes master.” He whispered back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sexy times continue in the next chapter...  
> For some reason when I was writing this chapter I completely lost the ability to do tense or POV correctly, I think I managed to fix it but it's possible a couple of bits slipped past me...  
> Thanks for reading. Comments and kudos always appreciated <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt tries out Eskel's gift but things go a little too far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The smut continues. Hope you enjoy!  
> Warning: this is the chapter with the subdrop and panic attack like symptoms.

The leather of the collar pulled on Geralt’s neck as Eskel tightened it. The comforting feeling of the heavy, thick, leather feeling right around Geralt’s neck. He breathed a sigh of relief and was rewarded with Eskel’s warm laugh.

“You like your collar don’t you puppy?” He cooed, “The big white wolf, all tamed and wearing his collar like a good boy.”

The words sent a sharp heat through Geralt’s loins, causing him to let out a whine and clamp his legs together, an awkward position from where he was kneeling on the floor, especially since his cock was still rock hard from earlier.

“What’s the matter puppy? Are you feeling okay?” Eskel asked as he extended a hand and began to pet Geralt’s head. Geralt purred into the touch; butting his head against Eskel’s hand and going down onto all fours. He dipped his back and lifted his ass into the air, trying to send some not so subtle signals to Eskel about exactly what it was that he wanted.

“Now, now, now, getting a little greedy aren’t we. Are you just a horny little puppy? Need something to hump to get that frustration out?”

Geralt’s mind reeled. He had been thinking about a repeat of a different pleasurable act, but Eskel’s words ignited Geralt’s imagination. Suddenly all he wanted was to start humping something, like a mindless dog. His mind settled into that image. He was a mindless dog, a horny little pup. His perception of himself changed until that was all he saw. And this puppy needed to hump something, right now.

His hips started moving of their own accord, humping the air, but the action itself sent fire shooting to his loins. _More_ , he _needed_ more!

There was a tug on his collar and he instinctively turned and followed in the direction his master indicated, trailing along by his master’s feet. Master took him to the fireplace, where a single chair sat facing the flames. Master took this seat and Geralt sat at his feet looking up, his hips still thrusting a little with every breath.

“Are you all right there pup? Looking a bit hot and bothered all of a sudden. Do you need something to mount?”

Geralt’s slow mind tried to sort through the words. His brain was a confused, lust filled, haze. He couldn’t figure out the human words. Instead, he just pushed his head up into master’s hand and whined deep in his chest.

Master chuckled and thrust his knee forwards. He said something, but Geralt’s ability to hear the distinct words was slipping. Master seemed to understand that his words held no meaning, because he then tapped his knee and made encouraging sounds.

Geralt didn’t need any more coaxing than that. He reared up onto his knees and pushed himself forwards so that his belly button was at the level of Master’s knee. He hooked his arms around Master’s leg. Once he was in position he looked up at Master for approval. He smiled and spoke again in an encouraging tone, so Geralt made a hesitant thrust, his cock rubbing in an exciting way against the rough fabric of the trousers. Master patted him on the head again and Geralt could make out two clear words, “Good boy.” so he thrust his hip again, and again and again, finding a rhythm.

Before long he was panting and sweating, thrusting fruitlessly against Master’s leg, getting more and more frustrated. He needed _more_. He was so unbearably horny now, his mind was on fire and his skin burned with it.

Master spoke to him again, his words sweet and sympathetic. Then he took hold of Geralt’s collar and pulled him away for a moment, making Geralt whine and tug a little on his bond. Master stopped and fixed him with a stare until Geralt stopped struggling and hung there, limp and obedient. Master then repositioned his legs so they were next to each other with a small gap in between.

Geralt understood immediately and as soon as his collar was released, he mounted again, this time thrusting his cock into the space created by Master’s legs. This gave him the friction he needed and soon he was flush and panting, so close to the edge. Master ran his hands through his hair, making happy sounds which only made Geralt’s cock harder and his thrusts deeper. Until suddenly it was all too much and he was coming. Great waves of pleasure shook him as he thrust again and again, spilling his seed onto Master’s trousers and cover of the seat behind him. He stayed there for a few moments more, thrusting shallowly, riding the aftershocks. As the last one hit, he slumped over, ending up lying next to the chair, limp, and full of warm glowing pleasure.

He was vaguely aware of Master getting up and then returning, putting his feet up by the fire. Then he felt the warm embrace of sleep take him and he knew no more.

At some point he was jostled awake as Master tried to move him to the bed. He was still talking in words Geralt’s mind couldn’t pin down, but his tone seemed a little off, as if he expected Geralt to know what he was saying. But puppies don’t talk, so Geralt just followed Master’s coaxing and burrowed under the blankets of the bed, falling back to sleep again readily.

Master gently jostled him awake when light started streaming through the windows. Geralt hummed deeply in contentment. But Master was talking to him again, in increasingly unhappy tones. So Geralt whined and rubbed his head against Master, that had made him happy last night. But now it only seemed to be aggravating him further. He kept repeating one sound over and over. So Geralt tried as hard as he could to understand it.

Slowly the word formed into meaning, “Geralt, Geralt, Geralt.” That was… him? But he was just a pup. His mind began to sink back down into that fuzzy place. Just a horny pup, not Geralt.

Then Master reached down to his throat and grabbed his collar and… Took. It. Off. Quickly, with no warning.

Geralt’s mind reeled in confusion. Where was he? He looked around and couldn’t figure out the room or why Eskel was there looking so upset or why he was naked and hard. What had he been thinking about, being a puppy? What was wrong with him? Why was he shaking so much?

Suddenly a sob gripped him, to his utter horror. He tried to bite the back of his hand to keep the sound in, but they just kept coming, wracking his whole frame. Witchers didn’t cry. He had always felt so strong, but now he felt so small, fragile, cold. It was a horrible imitation of the way he felt when the other witchers played with him and dominated him. But then it was fun, and enjoyable. And now it was _horrible_.

He had a sudden moment where he felt he was outside of his body looking down on the scene. He had absolutely no control over anything that was happening, not his emotions, not his mind, not his body. He curled in on himself then, desperately pulling himself deep into his own mind.

He became vaguely aware that Eskel was touching him and speaking to him. And for reasons he didn’t understand, he flinched away from the touch. He knew rationally that he trusted Eskel, that he loved him in fact, if he was honest with himself. But right in that moment, he wanted nothing less than being touched by him again, and worse, he had no idea _why_.

“Oh god, Geralt, what’s the matter, are you hurt? What did I do?” Eskel kept repeating.

But instead of responding and comforting his friend, Geralt just continued to sob, and he hated himself for it.

Then Geralt felt a strange warmth washing over him, binding him and blocking in his thoughts so that they couldn’t flow properly, breaking the cycle of panic he was descending into. He looked up at Eskel who was holding his fingers like he had cast a sign, but Geralt couldn’t make himself understand what was happening.

Then Eskel did something unexpected. He reached forwards, speaking in a calm tone the whole time, like Geralt was a flighty animal, and very slowly and gently refastened the collar around Geralt’s neck, releasing the sign as he did so.

Geralt’s sobbing immediately lightened and he felt that he could breathe again. His mind stopped spinning with questions and confusion and sank into a peaceful stillness, though his breath still hitched occasionally, and he stayed curled into a ball.

“Come here Geralt.” Eskel said in a gentle but commanding tone.

Geralt uncurled, without thinking about it, and scooted over to where Eskel was, on the bed, arms open wide. And he sank into Eskel’s warm embrace. He couldn’t say why he hadn’t before, he had wanted to, and it felt so good now that he was doing it. He stopped that thought though and just enjoyed the feeling of Eskel holding him.

“I’m sorry, Geralt, I didn’t realise you were so deep.” Eskel murmured into Geralt’ hair, “I shouldn’t have taken it off until you were back to yourself. I was just worried because you seemed so far away.”

“M’sorry.” Geralt offered sleepily. He wasn’t sure why he was so sleepy, he’d had a good nights rest, but he was suddenly overwhelmingly tired and still felt oddly cold. He didn’t know how to tell Eskel though, so he just snuggled deeper into his arms and closed his eyes.

Eskel must have noticed how his breathing evened out when he neared sleep again because he shook him a little, “Hey, hey, I don’t think you should sleep again just now, you feel… cold. Are you okay?”

“M’sleepy.” Geralt said with effort and tried to snuggle down again, why wouldn’t Eskel just let him sleep?

“Ah, ah, ah, no.” Eskel said. Geralt couldn’t ignore the tone of his voice and sighed, sitting up a little and looking at Eskel with a maudlin expression on his face, feeling as if he might start crying again.

Eskel cupped his face with a deeply concerned expression, “I think you should eat something and have a bath, to warm you up.”

Geralt shook his head weakly, that sounded exhausting.

“Yes.” Eskel said, his mind made up. He got up to start heating water over the fire for a bath. He annoyingly kept an eye on Geralt the whole time, telling him off every time he saw him try to settle down to sleep.

While the second bucket of water was heating, Eskel grabbed a plate of food from the side table and brought it over to Geralt.

Geralt took it weakly and started to pick slowly through the food, not lifting any of it to his mouth. Eskel fixed him with his most forceful stare and Geralt sighed, picking up a small piece of bread. He nibbled it and swallowed. And then found that maybe he was a _little_ hungry, so he ate the rest of the piece and then another and then another.

By the time he looked up from his empty plate, Eskel had the bath ready. Maybe he felt a tiny bit better, he thought. Eskel took him by the arm and guided him to the bath. He sank into it gratefully, the warm water seeming to revitalise his limbs. It also washed away some of the tension from his muscles that he hadn’t realised was there. Not to mention the… mess, which was covering a lot of his body. Eskel settled behind him and started to rub his shoulders. Geralt sighed and couldn’t help but relax back into the bath and just enjoy the warmth.

He didn’t realise that Eskel’s hands were on the collar until it was off. But this time he wasn’t flung into panic. He knew where he was, he knew who Eskel was and most importantly he knew who he was. It seemed suddenly strange and a little terrifying that he hadn’t know these things before. He really had been deep in the fantasy.

Eskel didn’t say anything, which wass the right thing to say, and just continued rubbing Geralt’s shoulders and then moved onto washing his hair. Eventually the water grew cold and Geralt got up, without Eskel having to coax him, and dried himself off with a towel. He moved back over and sat on the bed. Eskel sat beside him and pulled him close, radiating warmth and comfort with his scent, capturing Geralt in a cloud of it. Geralt relaxed and leant into Eskel’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” He offered.

“I don’t think it’s you who should be sorry.” Eskel countered, reaching up to run his fingers through Geralt’s damp hair.

“I shouldn’t have freaked out like that, I don’t know what was wrong with me, I was just so _confused_.”

“It has happened once or twice, back home, don’t you remember? Never like that, but after a couple of days with Vesemir once, I remember you being all spacey and tired.”

Geralt grunted, he supposed he did remember that, though it hadn’t been so dramatic, what had Vesemir done when that had happened? “Hm, yeah, Vesemir made me take a bath too,” Geralt said with a bit of a laugh, “Then bundled me up like I was a god damn babe and insisted that I rest.”

“I remember, Lambert and I were kinda confused about it and Vesemir said that it can happen sometimes. Said because you’d been experiencing such intense emotions you kinda… used them up. So you didn’t have any energy or motivation to do anything. I guess that’s not really what happened here though, since you definitely weren’t lacking emotion today. But maybe it’s a version of the same thing. That’s why I thought of the bath, because of Vesemir.”

Geralt nodded, thinking about Eskel’s words, “Makes sense, I guess.” He supposed it was a kind of emptiness he had felt when Eskel had taken the collar away, a sudden jerk away from one state to another, and a loss of the comforting support of that state. It had just come all at once rather than creeping up on him as it sometimes did in Kaer Morhen.

“I think, in the future, if we’re going to try this collar thing out, we need some way of ensuring that I’m in the right state of mind before you take it off.”

Eskel nodded, “How about a safe word which you can say when you feel ready for it to be taken off?”

“That could work. How about Roach, as a safe word, I’m not likely to say that while we’re having sex.” Geralt said that with a quirk of his lips and a glint of humour in his eyes. Eskel breathed a sigh of relief, Geralt was obviously feeling a lot better.

“Yeah, I think that’ll work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, comments and kudos always appreciated!  
> P.S. this was meant to be six chapters long but another chapter kinda forced it's way in. Eskel and Geralt needed to work some things out before the final smut filled chapter! So two chapters (currently) left to come.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eskel and Geralt talk about the previous night and set some boundaries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't intend to write this chapter but it just kind of... appeared. I also didn't intend to go so much into boundaries and negotiation during dom/sub play. This fic was meant to be pretty much just smut. Why can't fics ever behave themselves?!  
> Anyway, I'm not entirely sure if this deserves the porn without plot tag anymore because some semblance of plot seems to have forced it's way in... never mind.  
> Hope you enjoy this chapter!

The rest of the day passed in relative peace, both witchers going about the usual necessary tasks their job required: sword sharpening, potion brewing, staring at each other smoulderingly across the room every five minutes, amour repair. They ate together and tended their horses, until eventually it was evening again.

They both found themselves settling into their shared room, Eskel sitting in the armchair by the fire, Geralt sitting on the floor next to the fire, back against the mantlepiece, his head thrown back slightly, and his eyes closed. It was a familiar scene; they often sat like this in Kaer Morhen in the winter. Eskel would read or do some other small task, quietly, but Geralt just liked to sit there, listening to quiet sounds of the crackling flames and Eskel’s breathing, as they both warmed him with their presence. They didn’t need to talk, they’d known each other for so long, being in each other’s company was natural.

Geralt thought about this as he sat beside the fire in the inn and it made his heart ache with a strange mix of homesickness, longing and contentment. Hi emotions swelled in a great unformed wave. He focused on his breathing to calm himself and clear his mind. Eskel obviously noticed the change,

“Everything all right, wolf?”

Geralt hummed, honestly not sure how to respond.

“Ah yes, the multipurpose Geralt hum,” Eskel laughed, “I might need more than that.”

Geralt cracked an eye open and looked over at Eskel, “Just happy.” He said simply.

Eskel beamed, but then cocked his head, his smile becoming wry, “Is that all?” He pushed.

“Happy, and… and sad, I guess.”

Eskel just waited. Geralt didn’t want to speak anymore. He wanted to focus on the happiness and peace just sitting here with Eskel created. He didn’t want to focus on the negatives. But Eskel was very good at waiting, and he knew that the best way to get Geralt to talk was to just sit and wait. Eventually Geralt couldn’t take the tense silence anymore, the words he knew he should say bubbled up inside him and demanded to be spoken until he couldn’t hold them in any longer.

“I feel sad about what I’ve missed, melancholy about the past. I feel homesick and also like I am home, which doesn’t make any sense. I’m so happy that you’re here but I’m worried I’ll miss more time with you because I’m an idiot and I handled last night terribly.” As he’d spoken he had closed his eyes again, he didn’t want to see Eskel’s face, “Is that enough?” He demanded, his posture the same as before, but all peace had fled.

He hadn’t realised what he’d been truly feeling until the words started spilling from him. He felt like a failure. This had been a trial run so that he might be able to go back to Kaer Morhen or at least see Eskel more, but he had fucked it up. One night and he had been a wreck, in a way he had never been before. He couldn’t go back to Kaer Morhen, that much was clear. But cruelly, last night had also made him crave it. Desperately. He realised he was clenching his fists, because his nails had begun to dig into the skin on his palms. He forced himself to relax them, resting them on his knees.

There was a rustle and then Geralt’s hand was captured by Eskel’s and his warm weight was settling beside him on the floor. Geralt wordlessly leaned into him, resting his head in the crook of his neck. Eskel didn’t say anything for a long time. Which was the right thing to say really. His presence alone restored some of the peace Geralt had been feeling and pushed away the rising distress he felt over being sure he could never have _this_ again. In the moment with Eskel, he could just enjoy the peace, even if in the back of his mind a traitorous voice whispered the truth. He couldn’t have Eskel, he couldn’t have the other witchers, he couldn’t have his one escape. You’d have thought by now, Geralt pondered, that I’d be used to not being able to have what I want.

“I have to apologise.” Eskel said, breaking the silence.

Geralt dragged himself out of his reverie to stare at Eskel, “What do you have to be sorry for?” He demanded, a little more aggressively than he wanted.

“For last night. I took things too far, too quickly.”

“But Eskel,” Geralt said, snuggling back into him, he desperately wanted Eskel to feel better, the only thing worse, that could happen now, would be Eskel feeling guilty or unhappy about their time together, “last night was _amazing_. It’s my fault for breaking down at the end.”

“Geralt, stop.” Eskel said, his voice uncharacteristically stern, “You literally told me yesterday that you were finding being around us too overwhelming and then I go and get you to role play, I didn’t realise how deep you were and I reacted poorly. I controlled the situation last night, me, I did. You have nothing to blame yourself for.”

Geralt buried his face in Eskel’s shirt and said nothing. His mind was in turmoil again, he didn’t even know what he felt, it was just emotion. There was a pressure in his chest, compelling him to say something, shout it! Only he didn’t know the words he wanted.

Eskel continued, “You give your trust to me when we do things like that, you let yourself be vulnerable and in return I’m meant to protect you and help you feel safe. I got ahead of myself last night. I’d been thinking too much about what our reunion would be like and I only thought about what I wanted, not what was right for you.”

A small part of Geralt squirmed with pleasure at the thought of Eskel imagining what their reunion would be like. But that was overwhelmed by his frustration. Eskel was speaking as though he had enjoyed last night at Geralt’s expense, but Geralt had loved it too.

Then Eskel started speaking again and his words triggered panic in Geralt, “Maybe… maybe you were right to not come back. The distance was probably good. Kaer Morhen might not be the best thing for you right now.” Eskel continued speaking but his words were drowned out by the rushing in Geralt’s ears.

Just moments before he had been thinking about how he probably shouldn’t continue with this, probably shouldn’t go back to Kaer Morhen. But to hear Eskel say the words aloud made him suddenly realise how much he wanted it. He wanted Eskel to stay and never leave. He wanted Eskel to drag him back to Kaer Morhen and have his way with him. He wanted that warm feeling of submission and vulnerability. And he wanted the pleasure. The pleasure of pleasing Eskel and his fellow witchers, the pleasure of submitting and the physical pleasure which was the reward. He wanted and he needed these things. And Eskel was trying to take it from him, for his own good.

Suddenly the pressure of the unsaid words boiled over and he shouted, interrupting Eskel, “Stop! Please, please, don’t take this away Eskel. I need it, I need you. I love it. I can’t let go of it again. I thought I could leave it behind, but I can’t! I don’t mind when it goes too far, don’t let that stop you. It’s worth it if we can keep going. You don’t need to feel guilty, I can handle it. I can be good, I promise, please, don’t leave, I can be good.” His outburst trailed off into shaky whispers as the intense emotion he had been feeling burned up and he was left only with an empty desperation. He buried his face in Eskel’s chest, gripping his shirt in his fists tightly, as though Eskel was a life line in a rough sea. To his horror, he found tears rolling down his cheeks. At least they were hidden by Eskel’s shirt, he thought.

“Oh Geralt,” Eskel said in a painfully tender voice, “You’re always so good, I’m not going to leave.” He repeated these words, over and over, until Geralt managed to get a hold of himself again. He sat back and looked at Eskel with red rimmed eyes.

Eskel reached out a hand and cupped his jaw, rubbing his thumb over Geralt’s cheek.

“So, you want to try this again?” He asked, hesitantly.

Geralt hummed an affirmative.

“I think if this is going to work, you need to use words more.” Eskel said a little wryly.

“Yes, I want to try this again.” Geralt said, punctuating each word a little sarcastically. He felt rebellious all of a sudden, mocking Eskel’s request. He wanted to make a joke of it, to turn the situation round to something lighter, rather than all of this heavy emotion. But Eskel’s face became serious.

“Geralt, I mean it. What happened last night, even before I took the collar off, you were way too deep, I didn’t know what to do. I think we need to check in on each other more often.”

Geralt pouted a little, feeling childish, “But I like being that deep,” He said, leaning in and going for a flirtatious tone, tilting his mouth up to meet Eskel’s, “I like it when you own me, Eskel, when you make me yours.” But Eskel put out a hand and pushed him away.

Geralt huffed in annoyance, fixing Eskel with a glare.

Eskel matched it with one of his own, just as intense, “I know you don’t like negotiating like this, but it’s this or nothing. I won’t compromise. I was scared yesterday Geralt, I thought I’d properly hurt you.”

“But you didn’t.” Geralt said, though it was more of a whine.

“Not this time, no. But if this continues, I could hurt you. I could do something you genuinely don’t like when you’re not in a state to tell me, and then be affected by it afterwards. I don’t want that. And I don’t want what we do to affect you in everyday life. That’s not okay.”

 _But that’s exactly what I want_ , Geralt thought. And that was the trouble really, Geralt realised. He wanted to be overwhelmed. He loved in Kaer Morhen when he was in that state for days on end. Day after day when he wouldn’t wear a stitch of clothing, open and willing and pliant. He craved that. And he couldn’t have it. And, he realised, he shouldn’t demand that Eskel give it to him. That wasn’t fair.

“How about this.” Geralt started, looking up at Eskel, his face finally serious, “We work through this thing together, we build boundaries and figure out ways to make it work for the both of us. But,” He said, placing a finger of Eskel’s muscled chest, “If we manage to work through it, then I want to go back to Kaer Morhen, and I want to fully immerse myself in it again, I don’t want to pussy foot around and do it halfway. I want it to be like it was before.”

Eskel looked down at him, considering, “ _If_ we manage to figure it out?” He asked.

Geralt nodded.

“Well, then, that sounds like a deal. We’ll get Vesemir to decide if you’re fit for it.”

Geralt startled a bit at that, “Vesemir? I think I can decide for myself if I’m ready.”

Eskel smirked at Geralt’s incredulous tone, “Who is it who decided when we were ready to take to the path? I can’t think of anyone more qualified that Vesemir to decide if you’re ready.”

  
Geralt let out a disgruntled huff, “I’m no wide eyes trainee anymore, Eskel.”

“That’s the deal, take it or leave it.”

Geralt wasn’t too happy about how this was turning out. The idea of being presented to Vesemir to be tested brought back unpleasant memories of the various trials and exams he had to pass during training, potion making had been particularly bad, he recalled. But then he thought of the possibilities, the pleasures winter promised if he could do it. That would be worth any trial.

“Fine! You win! We try and figure this out, then Vesemir will decide if I’m ready this winter. Happy?” Geralt demanded.

“Absolutely overjoyed.” Eskel said, smiling.

“So… how are we going to figure it out?” Geralt asked, his mind empty of ideas.

“I have some thoughts,” Eskel said, getting up and quickly returning with the cloth bag, holding the collar. He held it out to Geralt.

Slightly perplexed, Geralt took it from him and held it, without opening it. He thought the sight of it might be a little… distracting.

“I think you should keep that. You should decide when to put it on and when to take it off.”

Geralt grumbled, he didn’t like that idea. The whole point was that it was _out_ of his control.

“Wait, hear me out,” Eskel continued, “I know you want me to control the situation, and I will, but only once this is on. This way you can be in control until you decide you want this on and then I will only take it off when you are ready, to avoid situations like last night.”

It did make sense, Geralt supposed.

“And I think I should start checking in with you more often and you’ll need to reply to me, properly.” He punctuated the last word with an affectionate bump on Geralt’s nose with his finger. Geralt screwed his face up, even though the gesture sent a burst of warmth inside him.

“Fine,” He said, “But, to be clear, I don’t want you asking me questions about what we’re going to do all the time. That kind of defeats the whole point of it. You can ask me if I’m still doing okay and then we only continue if I answer but you still need to lead everything.”

“All right, but you have to actually answer in sentences if things are going okay.”

“Can’t I just say yes?” Geralt asked, getting a little annoyed at this discussion.

“No offense, my dear white wolf, but there are points when you’d say yes to pretty much anything.”

“Fine.” Geralt huffed.

“And when you’re ready for the collar to come off, we’ll use Roach as a safe word. You can use that at any other point if you don’t like how things are going too.”

“Okay, fine. This is really going to take a lot of the fun out of it you know.” Geralt said grumpily.

“Oh, I’m sure we can still have plenty of fun,” Eskel said, his voice becoming husky in just the right way to send fire shooting through Geralt. He leant down and captured Geralt’s mouth in a passionate kiss.

“I suppose so,” Geralt conceded, when Eskel finally pulled away. He picked up the bag and unfasted the tie, pulling the collar out. “Ready to try it out?” He asked with a wry smile, “Because I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, comments and kudos always appreciated :)  
> Oh, and Happy New Year too!!!  
> Change of plan again! (I really should just write all of the fic before posting so I know where its going...) This is going to be the last chapter of this fic and I'm going to convert the final smutty chapter I was writing into a one shot for this series. I just need a little more time to write it and I couldn't make it fit in here at the end. Also I want to get away from this damn plot for a bit and just focus on the porn!   
> I'm also devising some more one shots which will be a mix of Geralt/Jaskier, Geralt/Eskel and Geralt/Jaskier/Eskel, so if that's your cup of tea, watch out for those :)  
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are always welcome! This is my first multi-chaptered smutty fic so I'd love to know what you think <3


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